


Of Years Past

by Jhabois



Category: Carole & Tuesday (Anime)
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 23:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20515547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhabois/pseuds/Jhabois
Summary: As the hourglass runs out of sand, so does everything fade away in due time.Ertegun gets swept up in the ever changing winds of time and this leaves him in a cesspool of thoughts he’d rather ignore. But the stillness of the night drags him into reflecting on memories of the past and the uncertainty of tomorrow.





	Of Years Past

**Author's Note:**

> I've only stumbled upon clips of the anime on YouTube and Ertegun was one of the characters who managed to catch my attention. This isn't canon (since I haven't even watched a single episode of the anime xD), this one shot is just how I initially perceived Ertegun in a specific situation. So read with that in mind.

The moonlight drenched the room with its luminescence, being the only light source of that enclosed space at this time of night, casting a silhouette on the unmoving form on the bed. Shallow breaths and the rhythmic falling and rising of their chest would give the impression of sleep at a glance, however Ertegun was as wide awake as he would be if the time had been late morning. His eyes stare blankly at the spotless ceiling. Getting lost in thought was not something Ertegun would ever think to spend his time on. He lived in the moment, relishing each and every second of the day doing what he loved most. But of course that’s not how things always go. There are bound to be moments like this when the usually soft droning in his mind would amplify themselves, overflowing his mind in fluctuating degrees like the beats of his songs.

Most of the time when this occurred he’d be blessed with simple questions of ‘what ifs’ accompanied by bright memories of his fame and how much he had achieved. This time was not one of those times. This time his thoughts raged around, thousands buzzing in his head with the speed of light, and most were thoughts he’d rather not hear or think about. But his mind is not under his control as of the moment, and he is afraid of where his current train of thoughts would lead him.

Forty-two. He is now forty-two years of age. The best years of his life had already passed and he’s holding on to remaining strands of his youth. Maybe he wouldn’t be as worried about his age if he was still relevant.

People saw him as pompous and arrogant, he didn’t blame them because he _is_. Yet deep down he knew that most of it was forced, just a surface level façade to mask his insecurities. A weak attempt at boosting his own waning self-confidence and self-esteem. Yes, he is proud of his accomplishments and of what he has created thus far. But he is afraid. He is afraid because his tomorrows seem to come and go in quick succession and try as he might he can’t slow things down. Tomorrows become todays and todays become yesterdays. Time appears to pass him by so quickly sometimes it feels like he’s fading even before he’s even dead.

And that’s exactly what’s happening.

His fame, his relevance, all the things he had worked for were quickly fading into the background. Of course, he knew this would happen someday. But he had at least hoped that it would happen long after he had passed. Seeing things fade away while he is alive breaks something inside of him bit by bit, the worst one of it all is seeing his music lose its influence. Yes, it’s helped written by AI but it’s still _his_…in every other sense of the word it’s still his music.

Fame, money, and relevance, all that stuff is great…but no matter how many times it seemed like he was only in it for the cash and popularity his music was his everything. It was his purpose, his gift, his music is him, but he let fame and money blind him from that, he can see that now. Losing his music would be the same as losing himself. And he _is _losing himself. He pretends he doesn’t notice but if he’s being completely honest with himself it’s blatantly clear that his music isn’t as great as it was before. His music had had the ability to touch people’s hearts, make them dance and move to the rhythm and the beat.

He can endure losing his fame, his money, his relevance, but he cannot stomach the thought of his music disappearing, not while he’s still here, not while he’s still capable of making more music. But with the time that’s passed by and with all the distractions he’d lost his way, or maybe he wasn’t on track as he had thought.

_Where did his music go?_

He could only lie in silence, no answer was given.


End file.
